While at a local eatery of the quick variety, I noticed a young Little Leaguer dressed in his uniform. The uniform was of major league quality: a heat resistant top with a very cool script of the home team on the front; the child's surname in block letters on the back; a black, outlined in white, block number; a matching hat...fitted; long gray pants just like the pros wear and Nike cleats.
Times sure have changed. When I played Little League my uniform was some kind of flannel hybrid, with a black stripe along the pant legs and "Bures Ford" splayed across the back...no number...no name...a car dealership.
No matter how we try to kill the game with free agency in the millions of dollars, artificial turf, tied all-star games and strike shortened seasons, the game survives. Forget soccer (America has post World Cup...right?) the beautiful game is baseball.
It's a game that's geometrically appealing in its lay-out and structure --- 9 innings, 3 outs, 3 strikes, 9 players. Keeping score at a baseball game and checking the players' stats is the closest I come to having any interest in numbers or math. The stats matter and form the foundation for discussion on who are the greatest players.
I've just come inside from playing catch with the neighbor kid --- it got too dark to see the ball; we're looking into lights, he's already asked his Dad.
How wonderful is playing catch? We talked about the Pirates and our favorite players; he shared how his traveling Little League team is 0 and 12 and how they've been "mercy ruled" for over half their games. (For the uninitiated, the mercy rule is when a team is trouncing their opponents so convincingly and leading by more than 10 runs after 4 innings the game is called...mercy). My catching buddy thinks this is a stupid rule and as he philosophizes, "It's not like were' trying to lose, can't we just keep playing for fun?!!?"
Baseball is timeless and playing catch is grace.
Part of playing catch involves pop-ups and grounders and bringing the throw in from the outfield as we imagine ourselves in those game situations. Sometime during catch, one person will pretend to be the pitcher and the other naturally crouches in the catcher's stance. The neighbor kid assumed the role of the pitcher...sigh...yes, baseball is timeless...unfortunately, my aged thighs and knees are not...
sj;